Three Gryffindors in King Arthur's Court
by Ron Weasley's Cutie
Summary: *REVISED EDITION* Yep, that's right. Our favorite Gryffindors have been transported back into the times of Merlin, Arthur...and Jeniva. Yeehaw!...Read, review, or just skip over this and go to the next story, whatever you prefer. Chapter 7 up!
1. Through the Mirror We Go

Three Gryffindors in King Arthur's Court 

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and the gang are owned by J.K. Rowling, I own Billy-Bob the Scottish pirate, and Merlin and Arthur and Lancelot are owned by…someone over the rainbow…

**A/N:** I hope you like the REVISED EDITION! Because the REVISED EDITION is REVISED with much better writing, plot development, and much more things. Enjoy the REVISED EDITION. That's fun to say. 

Chapter One: Through the Mirror We Go 

"And that," Professor Flitwick squeaked, "is the end of our lesson on traveling mirrors! I want a three-page essay on them by next Monday! Enjoy your lunch period!"

Harry jerked awake and reached dazedly for his bag. He shoved his Charms book into it and trudged wearily out of Charms class, Ron and Hermione following behind. Hermione gave him a look of concern.

"Are you okay Harry? Is it your scar?" Hermione asked, lowering her voice.

"Uh…no…I'm just a little tired, I guess," Harry muttered. Ron nodded at Harry as he yawned loudly.

"That class was dead boring, wasn't it, Harry?" he asked with a lopsided grin. Hermione gave Ron a disapproving look.

"Ron! Traveling mirrors are very important in the wizard world! It's important that you know how they work!" she said exasperatedly.

Ron just yawned and said, "Why do we have to know when you're right there? We could just ask you."

Hermione snorted. "I'm not going to be here forever, you know."

Ron shrugged. "Well," he said, "with all the spell books you read, I'm surprised you haven't found the secret to eternal youth yet."

Hermione blushed scarlet and folded her arms across her chest.

They all entered the Great Hall and took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Hermione, as usual, began to wolf down her lunch.

"Off to the library again, Hermione?" Ron asked, innocently.

Hermione shot him a glare as she picked up her bags and said, "Actually, I want to get that essay finished. You should, too. After all, we do have our O.W.L.S. coming up. We all have to put all our energy into studying!" She then scampered off to the library.

Ron watched her go with a disgusted expression on his face. "You know Harry," he said, after a few minutes' pause. "I think Hermione's finally lost it." Harry chuckled a bit and began to pick at his food with his fork.

Later that evening, when classes were over, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting around the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry and Ron were playing chess (which Harry was losing horribly at) and Hermione was, of course, studying.

"Checkmate," Ron said lazily as he moved one his pawns so that Harry's king had no place to go. Harry sighed, muttered something about always losing, leaned back in his chair and stared into the crackling fire.

"I'm hungry," blurted Ron all of the sudden, breaking the peaceful silence in the common room.

"You should've eaten your dinner, then," Hermione said as she flipped to page 232 in her Arithmancy textbook.

Ron ignored her and said to Harry, "Do you want to go down to the kitchen and get something? Or visit Dobby? We haven't seen him in ages…"

Harry looked up thoughtfully and said, "Yeah… I think I will…" He turned to Hermione. "You coming?"

Hermione gave them both a 'you're-going-to-get-in-trouble' look, but Ron interrupted her before she could actually say anything about it.

"C'mon Hermione! The O.W.L.S. are ages away! And besides, maybe you can start a house-elf rebellion…"

Hermione gave him a resentful look, crossed her arms, and said, "You _know I've given up on that, Ron." And then she added, more to herself then anyone else, "I suppose I could do with a little break…but it _is_ after hours. Filch will be roaming around…"_

Harry sighed and lowered his voice to say, "Fine. I'll bring the invisibility cloak. But you _have to open the portrait hole for me, or otherwise…" His eyes fell on a group of giggling sixth year girls standing together at the other end of the common room._

"Alright, alright," Ron murmured.

Harry went upstairs, snatched the invisibility cloak from the bottom of his trunk, and swung it around him. After catching ~ or rather, _not _catching ~ a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he hurried back downstairs. Ron and Hermione were waiting patiently by the door, talking in formal voices about stuff like the weather, classes, and things to do if a giant squid grabbed you by your ankles and started banging you against the castle walls. Harry went up to Ron and kicked him in the shins.

"Psst! Ron! I'm here! Open it!" Harry hissed at him.

Ron winced, rubbing his legs painfully, and opened the portrait hole. Harry climbed out first, then Ron, then Hermione, who shut the portrait hole behind her. Harry lifted the hood of the cloak so that they could see his head.

"Over here!" Harry whispered to them. They walked casually over to his floating head and covered themselves with the cloak.

"Oh, dear, where are you lot off to _this _time?" the Fat Lady asked, giving Harry's head a disapproving look.

Harry ignored her, pulled the hood back on, and the three of them began to walk silently towards the kitchens.

All was going well, and they were almost at the portrait of the fruit bowl, when Mrs. Norris appeared in front of them.

She licked her paw delicately, as if to say that she was almost unnaturally good at this job, and the three of them wondered yet again, _Could cats see through Invisibility Cloaks_?

Mrs. Norris stared up at them with her slit pupils and mewed loudly. Filch, never too far from his cat, came around the corner almost instantly.

"What is it my sweet? Have you found something?" Filch said sweetly to his cat, picking her up and stroking her sleek, gray fur.

Harry heard Ron mutter, "Oh, no…"

Unfortunately, Filch heard him, too.

Filch dropped Mrs. Norris and turned around wildly. "Who's there?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all nodded underneath the cloak to the same shared idea. Then they ran in the opposite direction. Mrs. Norris hissed and ran after them.

"Don't worry precious, we'll catch them!" Filch yelled at Mrs. Norris.

Harry spotted a door off the side of the corridor.

"There!" he gasped. They hurried over to it, and Ron pulled the door open. They all ran in and Hermione turned around and locked it with her wand.

They all stood there, trying to catch their breath as quietly as possible, when they heard Filch run by whooping something that sounded an awful lot like, "Haha! We have them now, my sweet!"

Harry threw off the cloak and they all stood up straight, having been hunched so that they could all fit underneath of it.

Ron leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief. "That…" he panted, "was close."

"Too close," Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione gave them both a look that said plainly, 'I told you so.'

Ron rolled his eyes and looked around the room. "Where are we?" he asked, curiously.

Hermione's expression changed from irritated to thoughtful as she gazed at the room. There were old desks piled against the walls, and dusty covers over some of the larger things. "It looks like an old classroom to me," she said, finally.

Harry saw something glint out of the corner of his eye. He pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos." His wand lit up, filling the room with an eerie, white glow and making the shadows of the desks look like monstrous giants. He saw the glint again, this time coming from the left corner. 

"Good idea, Harry," Ron said as he too pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos."

Harry held his wand in front of him and looked over the corner carefully. He saw nothing. He shrugged and turned around to check out something else, but then he saw the glint again. He shook his head groggily, thinking that this was some type of illusion or something, and that this would make it go away.

Then, as if he was being magnetized to it, he found himself in front of something that was covered by a large, dusty white blanket. He pulled it off and saw himself standing in front of a large golden mirror.

Harry's first thought was that it was the Mirror of Erised, but no, it couldn't be that. Most mirrors reflect light, while this one seemed to produce it. Not even the Mirror of Erised could do that. The warm, golden glow it was giving off seemed to draw Ron and Hermione to it.

"W-what is it?" Ron asked in an awed voice as he gazed up at its intricate gold carvings.

"Look…" Hermione said feebly a she pointed at the mirror.

Harry looked into it, and instead of seeing his reflection, he saw rolling hills and endless forests. Upon closer inspection he could almost make out a figure in the distance…Someone on a horse.

While Harry and Ron were gazing, hypnotized, at the mirror, Hermione seemed to be putting two and two together…

Her face lit up with sudden understanding.

"It's a traveling mirror!" she said excitedly. Ron and Harry jerked out of their trance and gave her nonplussed looks. Hermione rolled her eyes at them and said exasperatedly, "You know, you can travel to different places, times, even different dimensions! I _told_ you to listen during Charms class!"

Ron looked at the mirror again and gingerly touched it with his hand. When he did, the mirror's surface rippled like water and Ron quickly pulled his hand back.

"Whoa," he muttered, turning his hand over and looking at it in surprise.

Harry was hit with sudden inspiration. "Let's say we go. Through the mirror, I mean," he said excitedly.

Ron was all for it, but Hermione crossed her arms and shook her head stubbornly.

"We might not be able to get back! We really should tell a teacher!"

Ron rolled his eyes and said, "C'mon Hermione! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Hidden underneath my common sense."

Ron shrugged and said, "Well, fine, Hermione. We'll just go. And I'm sure we'll learn _so much…" Ron winked at Harry._

"Yeah," said Harry, catching on, "I'm sure we'll get top grades in History of Magic when we get back…" 

Hermione looked at the mirror, and then at the door, then back at the mirror again. She dropped her arms to her side and let out a small sigh.

"Oh, all right then…"she muttered. She appeared to be trying to look as if she was only doing this for their sake, but Harry knew that she really wanted to go, with or without a teacher knowing.

Ron gestured at the mirror.

"Ladies first," he said with a lop-sided grin.

Hermione shot a playful glare at him.

"Redheads first," she challenged.

Ron turned to Harry. "Midgets first."

"How about we all just jump together?" Harry asked, sarcastically.

"Alright."

"Sure."

So they all linked arms and Ron said, "On the count of three…one…two…THREE!"

They all jumped into the mirror, causing it to once again ripple like water.

They landed with a soft 'flump' on a grassy hill, and Harry looked up to see a man in shining, metal armor gazing down at them from atop a brown horse.

A/N: Heh heh, not that much has changed in this one…but there will be change my friends. Oh yes. There will be change. Wheeee…too much Wayne's World…

toodles,

Ron Weasley's Cutie


	2. Of Knights and Kings

Chapter 2 – Of Knights and Kings 

The knight pushed up the visor on his helmet and gave them all a curious look with his dark blue eyes.

"Are you lost?" he said in a deep, good-natured voice. He had that odd old-English type of accent, the kind that makes you feel as if you're talking to someone important, even though you aren't.

"Uh…yes…we…um…" Ron stammered. Hermione finished it for him.

"We took a little stroll out here and we found that we couldn't find our way back," she said, cool as a cucumber.

The knight gave her a confused stare.

"A 'little' stroll, my lady? Why, you are at _least_ four miles from the castle! Did your horses run away?" 

"Um…yes." Hermione said.

"How very unfortunate!" the knight cried, sympathetically.

Harry, who had been in shock at seeing the knight, suddenly regained his senses and spoke up.

"Could you…er…take us back to the castle?" he asked.

The knight dismounted his horse and bowed at Hermione.

"Of course! Her ladyship can ride on my horse, whilst we accompany her on foot."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and tried to hide a smile. "Okay," she said cheerfully. Ron was giving the knight the kind of look he gave Hermione when she casually announced that she'd gotten a 134% on her Transfiguration exam.

"We have to walk _four miles? And __she gets to ride the horse?" Ron asked in disbelief. Harry nudged him in the side with his elbow._

"Shut it, Ron," he hissed. Ron turned to Harry and started to say something scathing, thought better of it, crossed his arms, and resorted to giving the knight disgusted looks.

"Come now, good sirs! The sooner we reach the castle, the sooner we can feast!" the knight said happily. Ron muttered something about how the knight seemed a little _too _happy, and Harry had to say that he quite agreed.

They began to follow the knight ~ who clinked and clanked with every step he took ~ lost in an awkward silence. It was awhile before Hermione decided to speak up.

"So, er…who are you?" Hermione asked the knight. The knight was a bit surprised at her question.

"I, fair lady? Why, I am Sir Lancelot! One of the Knights of the Round Table! Have you not heard of us?" he asked, curiously.

"Um…yes, I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you in your armor," Hermione said weakly, trying to cover up her obvious shock with a trembling smile. Ron covered his mouth with his hand to unsuccessfully hide a snicker. Ron had never heard any Muggle fairy tales ~ unless you counted the one about the Snow White lady and the dwarves, but he'd heard that a _long_ time ago ~ and had absolutely no idea who Sir Lancelot was, although he _did _know that he was too bloody cheerful and had a funny name.

The knight turned to him and asked, confusedly, "May I ask what is so funny, good sir?"

Ron looked at the knight and fought to hide a laugh. "Well…it's just…" Harry and Hermione glared at him. "Uh…it's nothing…I just remembered something funny, that's all," Ron added quickly. The knight raised his eyebrows slightly, shrugged his metal shoulders, and turned back around.

They walked in silence (or, in Hermione's case, rode) until they came up over a rather large grassy hill and spotted a stone castle a little ways ahead of them.

"Ah," said the knight. "Camelot!" 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione gazed up at the castle. It was even larger then Hogwarts, but it didn't seem to radiate the same…magic…that Hogwarts did. This 'Camelot' was like a magic world unto its own.

The dark, grey stone of the castle contrasted oddly with the blue sky and the green grass, but it all seemed to just…fit. A few cottages were littered around the castle, while horses and cattle and other various farm animals grazed lazily near them. But there was something very odd about all of this.

"Where is everybody?" Harry asked, curiously.

Sir Lancelot once again looked surprised at the question.

"At the banquet, of course. His majesty leaves on a quest in a few days. We are wishing him good luck with a grand feast," Sir Lancelot said in a strange, solemn tone that Harry thought didn't fit him at all. 

Harry nodded weakly, and looked back at the gate. He squinted, and saw a few guards in front of the gate to the castle.

"Open the gate! 'Tis I, Sir Lancelot!" Sir Lancelot yelled at the guards. 

Harry could just make out the guards shouting at each other, "Open the gate, Sir Lancelot returns!"

It took them quite a while to open the gate, so Harry could understand why Sir Lancelot had asked them to open it even though they still had a way to walk before they were actually right at it.

Hermione dismounted the horse at the gate and Sir Lancelot directed one of the guards to take it to the stables. 

Sir Lancelot proceeded to take off his helmet, which revealed his shoulder-length brown hair and brown goatee. He took the rest of his armor off, each time handing it over to a guard who hurried to take it to the armory. 

Without his armor on, Sir Lancelot looked to be a man in his late twenties who, despite his obvious status and title, was wearing the simplest clothing: a brown tunic and pants, a white linen shirt, and leather boots.

"Would you like to meet the king, then?" Sir Lancelot asked kindly, brushing a bit of unseen dirt off of his shoulder.

Hermione's eyes grew very wide. She looked like a frightened rabbit in a car's headlights ~ without the buckteeth, of course. She tried to say something, but it whatever it was, it came out as a high-pitched gurgle.

And then he gestured for them to follow him into a large banquet hall, where everyone was seated at a long mahogany table that stretched across the room. A few musicians were playing lutes and pipes in the corner, and everyone was laughing and having a good time.

Sir Lancelot led them over to the head of the table, where a man with short, curly blond hair and beard was seated, talking to a woman who was seated at the right of him. It took Harry awhile to realize that the man was wearing a jagged, yet modest, gold crown on his head.

"Who's that?" Ron hissed in Harry's ear. Harry shrugged.

"Your majesty," Sir Lancelot bowed low, and Harry and Ron followed suit awkwardly (Hermione curtsied, remembering her etiquette lessons from long ago). "I found three villagers lost in the meadows. I actually do not know whether they are of Camelot or not, but as you have said before, majesty, what would Camelot be like if it didn't welcome strangers?"

The man who wore the crown laughed merrily. "I imagine Camelot would be very dull without them, Lancelot," the king turned to look at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "May I ask for your names, good sirs and gentle lady?" 

Hermione answered him.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said. Then she pointed at Ron. "And this is Ron Weasley," she pointed at Harry. "And Harry Potter."

Harry noticed that no one even did so much as raise an eyebrow at his name. 

Ron, who had been looking very irritated for the past few minutes, suddenly blurted out, "Who _are_ you?"

The king looked a bit taken aback by this question. "I? I am King Arthur of Camelot. I truly am surprised that you haven't heard of me. This is my wife, Queen Gwenivere," he gestured at the woman he had been talking to earlier. She had long, curly brown hair and hazel eyes. She was wearing a dark green velvet gown and a modest crown perched on her head. Arthur gestured to someone left of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "And this is Merlin, my head advisor; teacher; friend, and, as I'm a told, a rather good wizard."

A very old man with a long white beard and dark blue wizard robes and hat got up and smiled merrily at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry thought that he looked uncannily like Dumbledore.

"That's…Merlin?" Ron hissed in Hermione's ear. King Arthur heard him.

"Oh, so you've heard of Merlin, then?" he asked good-naturedly.

"Um…yes…he's very…er…well-known, where we come from," Hermione muttered, staring at her shoes.

"I have also heard of you," Merlin said with a mysterious air. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked extremely puzzled. King Arthur was still pointing out people seated at the table and stating their names.

"That is Lady Igraine of Cornwall, that is Sir Michael, and there is Lady Amelia and Lady Morgaine…" the king trailed on, now talking more to himself than to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "And, oh my, Sir Edward came along after all. I did rather think he was dead set on becoming a priest."

Merlin interrupted him.

"I need to talk to these visitors in private, Arthur. I hope you won't mind," Merlin said, winking at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were still very puzzled.

"Hmm?…Oh, no, not at all," King Arthur said, looking briefly up at them and then returning to pointing out other men and women of high status, perhaps because he was surprised he knew most of them.

Merlin smiled down at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"If you will follow me, then," he said solemnly.

He began to walk quickly over to a large wooden door, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked at each other and shrugged.

"I suppose we should follow him…" Hermione suggested timidly.

Harry and Ron nodded, and the three of them hurried to catch up with Merlin.

_A/N: I told you I'd change stuff…but it happens later._

toodles,

Ron Weasley's Cutie


	3. Revelation

Chapter 3 - Revelation 

"In here, please." Merlin gestured to a room off to the side that held a bookcase and a few velvety blue armchairs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down, still puzzled, and Merlin walked in front of them, eyeing them all down. Merlin had silvery gray eyes, and when he looked at Harry, it made him feel like he could see all of his secrets. 

Ron and Hermione were looking very uncomfortable, because when Merlin had looked at them, he had chuckled softly, and they had absolutely no idea why.

"As Arthur told you, I am Merlin," Merlin said solemnly.

"How do you know who we are?" Ron blurted out. Merlin turned his gray eyes to Ron.

"Yes, I'm getting to that. Now, I do believe that in your time there is a very dark wizard, who goes by the name of Lord Voldemort," Merlin said. Ron and Hermione cringed slightly at the name, "and you, boy, you were the one that made him lose his powers, were you not?" Harry nodded. "And you two, you helped him defeat this Voldemort once, am I correct?" Ron and Hermione nodded. Merlin's face fell a little bit but he smiled all the same. "Well then, you are the ones I sent for. I was hoping for someone a little bit…"

"Older?" Harry interrupted. He felt a tiny stab of annoyance at this.

Merlin gave him a cheery smile. "Exactly. I believe you are Harry Potter?" 

"Yes." Once again Harry noticed that Merlin had not even glanced at his scar.

Merlin turned to Ron. "And you are Ronald…Wesley?" he asked, uncertain.

Ron looked a bit irritated. "Ronald _Weasley. Not Wesley. And everybody calls me Ron."_

"Certainly." Merlin nodded, and turned to Hermione. "And, Hermione Granger, I presume?"

Hermione blushed and nodded.

"How do you know our names?" Ron asked again, still annoyed at the fact that Merlin had gotten his name wrong.

Merlin suddenly dropped his smile and became very serious.

"I brought you here through that mirror. I knew for a fact that you were at some point going to enter that room, and that you would find the mirror. I have my ways of seeing the future…The reason I brought you here is because…well…I suppose that Voldemort fellow is very…mean, is he not?" Merlin asked. Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded vigorously. 

"Then I think you will understand what I am about to say… King Arthur has decided to go on a quest for the Holy Grail. I have told him it is only a myth, and if God wanted it to go into the hands of a man with a pure heart, He would hand it over to them Himself. But that is beside the point. In this time, there is a very powerful and evil witch, by the name of Jeniva. She prefers to torture, rather then kill, like your Voldemort. She has always had what is left of her heart set on ruling Camelot. She despises us, and she has done so since Arthur banished her. She ~"

Hermione spoke up timidly. "Er…why did he banish her?"

Merlin sighed. "That, Hermione Granger, is another story, for another time." 

Hermione nodded, feebly.

He continued, "With Arthur away from the throne, who knows what she may do? I, the one who is remembered in your history books as one of the most powerful wizards in the world, cannot stop her. I am too old, and I cannot stop her madness. She has the power of youth; I do not. That is why I have brought you here. That is why I know your names. You would not believe what the fates have told me about what is in store for you. But I know you shall succeed in whatever it is you must accomplish," Merlin stopped to look at all of them with a furious pride. Ron was still very confused.

"But…but…how could you know? And what are these 'fates'?" Ron asked.

Merlin chuckled slightly.

"The fates are the controllers of the past, present, and future. You could say that they are angels, generally. These…angels and I have formed a friendship of sorts. They tell me certain things that may help the people in my time. They are the ones who asked me to summon you. They told me your names. Your past. Your future. Your location. And that's how I knew that you were the ones to defeat Jeniva…"

"_What?" Harry asked._

"I know it may come as a shock, but it can be done," Merlin said plainly.

"But…how…?"

"Listen," Merlin said soothingly, "I am _sure_ you will be able to do it when the time comes, but for now, I suggest that you enjoy yourself here in Camelot. I will persuade Arthur to let you stay in the castle, which will not take much effort, and you can train, study, or do whatever your heart pleases until…" Merlin trailed off, shaking his head sadly.

"Until what?" Harry asked.

"You will find out."

Ron fidgeted. "…why _us_?" 

"Because, dear boy. Because."

There was a very awkward silence in the room, until Hermione blurted something that she had apparently been very anxious about.

"Um, will we miss any school-work while we're here?" she asked nervously.

"No, no…you will be returned to the exact time you left," Merlin smiled. 

"So," Ron said. "You're telling us that we have to defeat an evil witch ~ a _powerful evil witch ~ and we can't even miss a bit of homework?"_

Merlin laughed merrily. "Believe me, boy, the rewards you'll get from staying here are all you'll ever need."

Ron crossed his arms and said sarcastically, "Yeah. I'm sure they will be."

"Yes. I'm glad you feel that way," Merlin nodded at the door. "Well, I suppose you are dreadfully famished, so why don't we head back to the feast, hmm?"

So they all headed back to the banquet hall, with Harry, Ron, and Hermione feeling somewhat dazed.

Merlin gestured for them to take seats near King Arthur. The king had no objections to this, despite how strange Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked in their black Hogwarts robes.

Harry cast a curious look around the table, observing every single person. A rather fat woman in a pink silk dress who was talking to Sir Michael looked vaguely familiar…

"Harry," Ron hissed in his ear. "Look! It's the fat lady! She must be getting her portrait done today!"

"By who?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged.

"Dunno."

Ron suddenly drew his attention from the fat lady over to Hermione, who was talking (a better observation would be that she was listening while blushing and staring down at her feet)  to a handsome boy who looked to be around sixteen years old. The boy had brown hair and bright green eyes, like emeralds, and he was wearing a very good-natured grin.

Ron's eyes glinted maliciously like they had done on the night of the Yule Ball in fourth year. He dug his fingernails into his palms.

"Ron," Harry asked. "What's the matter?"

Ron didn't take his eyes off Hermione and the boy.

"Nothing…I just have a stomach ache…" he muttered.

_Or maybe you're just a little jealous… Harry thought to himself._

Hermione and the boy walked over, Hermione looking flushed.

"Harry, Ron," she said excitedly. "I would like you to meet Godric Gryffindor."

Godric nodded at them and smiled.

Ron gaped.

_A/N: Well, the plot's changed a BIT…but now we're beginning to get to the good part._

toodles,

Ron Weasley's Cutie


	4. Jeniva

Chapter 4 – Jeniva

"G-Godric…Gryffindor?" Ron asked weakly.

"Yes…" said the boy, looking politely puzzled at Harry and Ron's astonishment.

Harry suddenly came back to his senses.

"I'm Harry Potter," he held out his hand and shook Godric's hand. "And this is Ron Weasley."

Ron was still staring at Godric in disbelief, but he managed to mutter, "Hi…"

A very awkward silence followed. Hermione nervously tried to start a conversation.

"So, is Merlin teaching you, Godric?" she asked, trying desperately to sound politely curious, rather than nervous.

Godric turned to her and said, "Oh no, not just me."

"Oh-oh really?" Hermione smiled nervously.

"There is Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, and me," he answered, ticking each of them off with his fingers.****

"Is he a good teacher?" Hermione asked, her teeth chattering.

"Well, in my opinion, he could possibly be the greatest…" Godric glanced at the Hogwarts badges on Harry, Ron, and Hermione's robes. "'Hogwarts', is it? What a curious name…is that where you come from?"

"Well ~"

"Er ~"

"You see ~"

"Yes," Harry said quickly.

"Is it nice there?"

Ron gurgled, weakly. 

"It's…um…wonderful," Hermione said.

"Yes, marvelous," Ron added.

"Well, for a pig's skin condition, it sounds quite lo ~" 

Suddenly, a loud 'C-CRACK BOOM!' echoed throughout the banquet hall, and a giant puff of smoke appeared in front of the table. Many women screamed, and all the men drew whatever weapon they had (even if it happened to be a butter knife). Godric stopped talking abrubtly.

The smoke cleared a little and Harry and Ron were able to make out a woman's tall, slim figure in the haze. A cold voice filled the hall.

"A farewell party, Arthur? Why was I not invited? Am I not but a loyal servant of your kingdom?" asked the voice in mock sadness. A woman in a long velvety black dress stepped out of the smoke. Harry's first thought was, of course, that she was beautiful. After all, she had her golden hair up in an elegant bun and her neckline was very low. Her face features were soft and perfect. Her skin was white as snow, and her eyebrows arched delicately over her eyes. Ron must have thought that she was beautiful as well, because his mouth fell open.

And then the woman looked at him.

The woman's eyes were cold, hard, empty, and black. Pure black. Her eyes pierced through him like lasers. Harry couldn't help it ~ he looked away. He could feel the woman's smile burning on his cheek.

"Go back where you came from, witch!" yelled a man at the far side of the table. Harry turned to see the woman point her finger at the man, who flew into the air and was thrown against the wall. His wife hurried over to him. 

The woman smirked.

"Witch, am I? Do you not have two witches in this castle?" she said, amused.

"You were not asked to come here! Go!" Arthur yelled. The woman turned to face him.

"Oh…tsk, tsk Arthur…I've only just arrived! Surely you'll let me have a little bit of fun?" She shook her finger at him. Arthur's hand lowered to the sword hilt on his belt. 

Jeniva laughed merrily. "Silly boy, with your silly little sword," she said, smiling evilly. Merlin stood up.

"Good evening, Jeniva," he said, calmly.

"Why, Merlin! Dear, dear, how long has it been? Still alive, I see," she commented, sneering at him.

"Yes, unfortunately for you. You have no business here Jeniva. Please, pay us a service and leave at once," Merlin asked patiently.

The woman let out a cold laugh.

"A service, Merlin? Why in God's name would I want to pay you a service?"

Merlin simply looked at her and said, "You will be the one begging for a service soon enough, Jeniva. Behold the three that will defeat you." Merlin gestured at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Jeniva eyed them down bemusedly. She then threw back her head and laughed.

"You old fool! You chose three _children to destroy me? This must be some sort of joke!" Even though Jeniva laughed, her eyes stayed the same ~ cold and cruel._

"It is no joke, Jeniva," Merlin said.

Jeniva laughed even harder at this. "Fools! All of you ~ fools! These are _children, not great warriors! You might as well send your little students after me, Merlin, for all the good it will do!"_

Harry saw Godric's tan skin grow red with anger.

"I would not laugh, Jeniva," Merlin shouted calmly at her. Jeniva continued to laugh, and then she yelled, "Oh Merlin, you old fool! No one can defeat me! No one!"

And then, in another puff of smoke, she was gone. 

Arthur cleared his throat and spoke across the hall saying, "I think that will be enough feasting for tonight. I suggest you all bundle up and head for home."

There were scattered nods and everyone stood up and walked off. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were confused and looked up at Merlin for guidance.

He smiled warmly and gestured for them to follow him.

"I expect you would like to know what that was all about, eh?" Merlin asked as they started to climb a staircase.

Hermione nodded weakly, her eyes catching on Godric as he left the hall.

"That was Jeniva. She's always making those big flashy entrances, and she loves to come here and torment the people when we're all together," Merlin said, sighing and shaking his head sadly.

"Is it…is it true that she's impossible to defeat?" Ron asked.

Merlin shook his head.

"No, no…you must have learned that everybody has some weak point, whether it be a weak heel or a tender spot for a certain lover. It is never fully impossible to defeat someone, no matter how strong and powerful they are."

They all walked in silence for awhile, until Merlin came to hall that had three doors ~ one on the right side, and two that were about twelve feet apart from each other on the left side.

Merlin gestured at the doors and said, "Pick a room, and do try to get some sleep. Tomorrow you will begin your training."

Harry looked surprised at this.

"Training?" he asked.

"Yes, young Harry, training. You don't very well want to face Jeniva with just a few magic tricks, do you? No…you must at least have a sword to fight her with; Jeniva is not only powerful in her magic, but in her physical strength, as well.

"Oh," said Harry, dazed.

Harry chose the first door on the left side, opened it, and entered the Land of Green.

Everything was green. Or at least, everything seemed to have some type of green theme to it. The king-size, four-poster bed's quilt and curtains; the carpet; the tapestries on the walls…It made Harry dizzy…so he laid himself down on the bed and stared out of the window, thinking about everything that had happened to him so far, and whether or not this was all just a dream…

A/N: Fun, fun fun… 

toodles,

Ron Weasley's Cutie


	5. Chasing Dreams

Chapter 5 – Chasing Dreams 

_Harry looked around. Black. Empty. Darkness._

_"Hello there, little boy," said a voice from a corner._

_"Who's there?" Harry asked frantically as he looked around the darkness. _

_"Just an old lady," the voice cackled._

_"Show yourself!" Harry yelled._

_"Come now deary, we shouldn't yell like bad little boys do."_

_"I am NOT a little boy!" Harry said, defiantly._

_"Of course you aren't. You're brave and daring like all men should be, aren't you?"_

_Harry didn't answer._

_"Come now, boy, don't you want to prove yourself?"_

_"Y-yes!" Harry stammered._

_"Then come over here and help me up," said the lady._

_Harry walked forward, reached out his hand, and felt something icy cold grip it. _

_"Help me up, boy, don't waste your time." The old lady was starting to get impatient. Harry pulled her up. Suddenly, the whole room lit up, and Harry saw the woman's face. He screamed._

_The woman was dead. But, how could she be…? She was smiling, her eyes glinting maliciously from their sunken sockets, her cheeks gray and rotted. It made Harry want to be sick, it made him want to run away, it ~_

_"Not so brave now, are you?" The voice was cold and harsh. The old lady threw back her decomposing head and laughed. A very high, cold, evil laugh. And then she turned into Jeniva. _

Harry's eyes snapped open. A breeze coming from a nearby window dried his cold sweat. It took him a moment to remember where he was, but then it all came rushing back to him, like when you have a bad headache in the morning and remember, groggily, that there had indeed been a party last night. 

TINK, TINK, TINK, CRASH!

Harry sat up and looked around. Some broken china was lying on the ground maybe five feet away.

"Who's there?" he asked, reaching for his glasses and his wand.

A small green figure twitched behind a table.

"I is…I is very sorry, sir. I is going to clean it up now, sir. Go back to sleep, sir," said a timid voice. It sounded awfully familiar.

"Dobby?" Harry asked, hardly daring to believe it.

The green figure stepped out from behind the table. It looked almost just like Dobby, except that its enormous eyes were nut brown.

"Dobby, sir? I is not knowing who you is talking about, sir. I is Tipsy, sir," said the house-elf.

Harry shook his head and said to the house-elf, "Sorry, sorry…you just …look like someone I know…"

The house-elf nodded.

"Well sir, if you is wanting something, sir, you is just calling out my name and I is coming, sir!" said the house-elf, bowing low. And with that he cleaned up the broken china and vanished.

Harry shrugged and got up. The house-elf had left a pile of clothes for him on a chair. Harry held them up and looked at them; there was a pair of brown pants, a white linen shirt, a green tunic, and leather boots. Lancelot-type clothes. Harry sighed and put them on.

He went out into the hall to find Ron and Hermione already up and about, and, of course, arguing about something. Ron's outfit looked almost identical to Harry's, except that his tunic was dark blue. Hermione was dressed in a red skirt, white blouse, and a red corset. She would've been quite attractive-looking, had it not been for the fact that her face was screwed up in anger and was turning as red as a tomato.

Ron pointed at the stairs at the far end of the hall.

"It's that way, I'm telling you!" he said hotly, while his face grew steadily redder.

"No, Ron! We came in that way! _That's the way we go!" Hermione said exasperatedly as she pointed at the opposite stairway._

Ron suddenly noticed Harry standing in his doorway.

"Oi! Harry! Know which staircase we came up last night?" Ron called from across the hall. Harry shrugged.

"Don't look at me…" he muttered.

Ron sighed exasperatedly. "What are we going to do, stay here forever, then?"

 Then Harry suddenly remembered something.

"Tipsy!" he shouted.

"What?" Ron and Hermione chorused together.

Tipsy the house-elf appeared in front of them and bowed low, once again.

"I is hearing my name being called, sir, so I is here to help you," said the elf.

"Er…could you take us down to the Banquet Hall?" Harry asked, doubtfully. The house-elf nodded vigorously.

"I is knowing the way, sir. I is taking you there, sir," the house-elf said, his eyes wide.

The house-elf gestured for them to follow him down the nearest staircase. Harry had expected for Hermione to point out to Ron that he was wrong, but she just crossed her arms and said to the elf, "You know, you don't have to put up with this. You could boycott this whole 'house-elf' thing until you get paying."

Ron rolled his eyes as the house-elf looked at Hermione in horror.

"Oh no, miss! I is liking King Arthur! I is liking to work! I is not asking for paying, miss! No, no, no!" Tipsy shuddered. Hermione sighed and Tipsy started heading down the stairs again.

After many twists and turns, which Harry must've not noticed before, they all reached the Banquet Hall. Tipsy waved farewell, and disappeared with a 'POP!'.

The long table that had been there the night before had been cleared away, and now there were just three separate mahogany tables. Apparently everyone had already finished breakfast, for no one was there. Ron turned to Hermione.

"You just _had to argue, didn't you? Now we've gone and missed breakfast!" he said furiously._

"_Me? __You're the one who started it!" Hermione put on an impression of Ron. "'_Oh, where do we go, Hermione? I don't know, is it that way? No, it's not over there, it's over here!'_"_

Ron's ears turned very pink. "Oh, shut up," he murmured.

"There you are!" called a voice from the other side of the Banquet Hall. They all turned to see Merlin walking swiftly towards them. "Hurry, hurry! We'll miss Arthur's farewell speech!" 

Ron made a face that said plainly, "So?"

Merlin chose to ignore it and hurried them off towards the gate. Arthur was sitting astride his horse, kissing Gwenivere good-bye. Arthur looked up.

"Ah, Merlin," Arthur said with a bow of his head. Merlin gave him a very grave smile.

"Arthur, you will not be swayed from this quest for anything, will you?" Merlin asked. Arthur shook his head solemnly and Merlin continued. "Then I must ask a favor of you."

"Certainly, Merlin," Arthur said, with a touch of curiosity.

"Give the boy Excalibur. The fates have informed me that you will not need it."

Arthur merely stared at Merlin. "Of course, Merlin. Where is Godric?"

"Godric is not the one to whom I wish to give the sword."

"Really? Well…Salazar, then? What would he want with it?"

"Salazar is not to receive the sword. This ~" Merlin pushed Harry forward ~ "is who will wield it."

Arthur stared curiously down at Harry. "Harry, is it?" Harry nodded, his knees trembling. "Yes…well…onto business." Arthur took out the sword and handed it to Harry with a slight bow of his head.

"Treat it well, boy. I hope to find it in excellent condition when I return," Arthur said, a kind smile lighting up his face. Harry gulped and stared down at the sword with wide eyes.

He was holding Excalibur. _The Excalibur. One of the most legendary things in the world. He tightened his grip on the diamond-encrusted hilt and swished it a little. The sword sang its own eerie song. It looked to be made of iron…or silver…or some other type of metal that Harry couldn't name, but one thing he did know for sure was this: the sword was good, and powerful. Harry could feel the energy from it flow through his veins._

"Um…Harry…" Ron nudged Harry with his elbow. Harry looked up to see many people staring oddly at him.

"Uh…" Harry glanced around, dazed. "Yeah…I will…thanks…"

Arthur smiled, gave Gwenivere one last kiss, shouted "I will not return empty-handed!", and rode off with hundreds of other Camelot men, their banners waving proudly in the breeze.

"He's going off to chase a dream…" Harry heard Merlin mutter under his breath. 

The many people that had been there to see Arthur off were now leaving, and Merlin seemed to suddenly remember something. 

"Ah, yes…your training…"

Ron gulped.

"Sir Lancelot!" Merlin called across the field. Harry was a bit confused. He had thought that Sir Lancelot was going on the quest with Arthur as well.

Sir Lancelot hurried over and asked, "Yes, what is it Merlin?"

"Here are your new trainees," Merlin said solemnly, with a gesture at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Sir Lancelot smiled.

"Aye, we've met," he said, winking at them.

Hermione seemed to feel a bit awkward at this.

"Er…Merlin, sir…um…aren't _you_ training us?" she asked timidly. Merlin chuckled a little bit.

"Oh, no, dear child! I have my own students to teach!" Merlin chortled.

Sir Lancelot gave him a good-natured grin and made a gesture for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to follow him.

A/N: *sigh* I'm so corny, you could bite the kernels off of me…blegh… 

toodles,

Ron Weasley's Cutie


	6. Training

**Chapter 6 – Training**

"Fool! You ignorant fool! You let that bloody Lancelot train them?" Jeniva shouted, each syllable smothered in anger and resounding off of the gleaming black walls.

"I…I…I didn't have a choice, my lady. Merlin would not let me train them," stammered another voice, a man's voice.

"Hold your tongue, you worthless coward," Jeniva hissed coldly at him. The man gulped, retreated behind one of the large stone pillars in the great hall ~ black, like everything else ~ and trembled.

"Why do I surround myself with idiots?" she muttered to herself, running her pale hands through her hair. 

The man watched her from behind the pillar, his eyes glazed over with fright and deep awe. She was so beautiful…from deep inside of him came the rumbling of lustful hunger, and he did his best to soothe it, though it could not be stopped. 

"My lady, it s-seems that…"

Jeniva whipped her head around, and gave him a piercingly cold stare that made him whimper stupidly. 

"What is it, you stupid knight?"

Sir Tresbath took a breath, and managed to stutter, "well…I…I could…s-spy on them, my l-lady."

Jeniva stroked her chin, and smiled evilly. "For once, Tresbath, you have made an effort to reconcile you mishaps. Go, then, and get out of my sight."

Tresbath nodded, and smiled inwardly at himself. She had complimented him. 

"Yes, my lady," he murmured, before bowing low before her throne and running off to find his horse.

***

"You expect me to fight with…with _this?" Ron breathed in disbelief as he held up a dagger. Harry failed to see why Ron was complaining. The dagger was a foot long, at least, and the point seemed deadly sharp. Its hilt was encrusted with rubies. But then again, Harry reminded himself, he __had gotten Excalibur._

Sir Lancelot laughed heartily.

"That is one of the most dangerous daggers in Camelot, my boy. The iron was melded with poison, therefore whoever is stabbed with it shall surely die, no matter how hard they fight it."

Ron, who had been examining the dagger in disgust, suddenly dropped it.

"It ~ what? It's…It's poisonous?" he asked, panicking, rubbing his hands on his tunic in an effort to get the poison off. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, honestly, Ron, it just means that if you stab someone with it they'll die quicker, don't be such an idiot," she said, irritated.

Ron blushed ~ which surprised Harry, as he thought that Ron would've shot a remark right back at her ~ and picked up the dagger. Harry noticed that he now treated it with extreme care and gazed at it with new respect.

"And for you, fair maiden," Sir Lancelot turned to Hermione, who blushed furiously while Ron glared at Lancelot from behind her. "I am pleased to present the Archer's Bow."

Something about the way Lancelot said it made Harry think that the word 'bow' was capitalized. But, that was explained when he pulled out 'the' bow.

It was a tad smaller than a regular bow. It was made of smooth cherry wood, and was studded with emeralds the size of robin's eggs. Hermione took it in her hands with a look of awe. Lancelot handed her some arrows, which all had eagle's feathers on the end, and said, "Aim wisely with this, fair lady, for if it has a destination, it will never miss its mark."

Harry didn't know why, but he shuddered. Then Lancelot handed her a plain leather quiver, which Hermione slung over her shoulders, nervously.

"Now, to teach you!" Sir Lancelot said gleefully. He seemed to enjoy the idea of training people. Harry had a suspicious feeling that Lancelot had never done this before.

Sir Lancelot led Hermione over to a haystack. About fifty feet in the distance there was a bull's-eye, and apparently Sir Lancelot expected Hermione to be able to hit it, no trouble.

"Now, you take the bow like this," Lancelot arranged his hands so as to look like they were holding a bow. Hermione copied him, except she had a real bow. "And then ~ release!" Lancelot pretended to release an imaginary arrow at the bull's-eye.

Harry held back the urge to laugh as Lancelot held an arrow out to Hermione and said, "Now, please, try it!"

Hermione took the arrow nervously. She seemed uncertain on how to hold it, for which Harry couldn't blame her. Lancelot had only told Hermione what she already knew, which was that if you pulled and let go, the arrow would go somewhere.

Hermione stared at the arrow for a moment, and decided to give it a go. She put the arrow on the bowstring ~ rather clumsily, to be sure ~ and pulled it back with trembling fingers. She let go. The bowstring twanged loudly and the arrow fell at her feet. She hadn't made it go anywhere at all. Harry saw Ron stifle a snicker behind his hand. Harry couldn't help it; he chuckled along with him. Hermione shot them both fiery glares.

Sir Lancelot was deep in thought, gazing at the arrow on the ground. 

"Well, alright, then," he said loudly. "If you would be so kind as to let me try, my lady?"

Sir Lancelot took the bow from Hermione and picked up the arrow. He set it on the string, and pulled back. Then he let go. 

The arrow zipped past Hermione and landed with a 'twang!' right in the middle of the bull's-eye. Lancelot turned the bow round and round, his brow furrowed, as if he were inspecting it.

"Everything seems to be in order…Care to try it again, m'lady?" Lancelot asked as he handed itback to Hermione, who nodded. 

Her trembling fingers once more pulled out an arrow, fitted it on the string, pulled back, and released. Her arrow, this time, hit the target, but on the very edge of it.

"Ah, Madame, you need to practice your aim!" Sir Lancelot said, cheerfully. Hermione's cheeks flushed dark red. She pulled out another arrow and began practicing.

Lancelot turned back to Harry and Ron.

"Now ~ fencing!" he said happily, clapping his hands together. Ron looked nonplussed.

"Fencing?" Ron hissed in Harry's ear. "What is he, mad? Are we supposed to build a picket fence around the enemy or something?"

Harry grinned and said, "No, Ron…I think he means sword fighting…"

"Oh." Ron's ears went red.

Sir Lancelot led them over to a bare spot of ground, where he fitted them up in loose armor and gave them both dull-edged swords. 

"But what about my dagger and Harry's sword?" Ron protested.

"Nonsense, boy! Those are far too dangerous to train with!" 

Harry, who really didn't mind using the dull-edged swords, was more concerned about how he looked in the two-sizes-too-big armor. The visor on his helmet kept falling down. He also saw Hermione glance over at them and burst into silent laughter.

"Now," Lancelot said, utterly serious, as he pulled out his sword. "I will begin to teach you the art of fencing…"

Harry saw Ron roll his eyes when Lancelot turned to him. Lancelot was nice enough, and he had a good sense of humor, but he tended to stay in only one frame of mind, which was, naturally, his own.

A/N: Frolicking through the field! Tra la la! …*cough* Okay, where did THAT come from? *glances around nervously*

toodles,

Ron Weasley's Cutie


	7. The Founders Four

Chapter 7 – The Founders Four 

***

Sir Lancelot pulled out his sword and said to Harry and Ron, "You hold the sword like so," he said as he began fighting an invisible enemy. "And ~ touché!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. Well, it couldn't be _that hard, could it? I mean, after all, it just look like you waved the sword in the enemy's face._

Sir Lancelot looked at them cheerfully. "Care to try?"

Harry nodded at Ron, and they fumbled for their swords.

Harry and Ron started battling. Not very well, of course ~ there were plenty of times when they both would drop their swords and have to take a time-out to pick it up and get back into momentum again. But then again, any person who had been passing the courtyard might've mistaken the many clanks, 'Argh!'s, and 'Die, you fiend!'s for a pretty intense sword fight.

Hermione, on the other hand, was still trying to work out how to shoot an arrow. She tried again. TWANG, SHOOOOOOOP, TWONG! She hit the target that time, not very far from the bulls-eye. That brought a very proud and confident smile to Hermione's face, which quickly turned to a frown as she discovered that she couldn't pull the arrow out of the target.

They trained until the sun set, streaking the clouds with pink, orange, red, and, in some cases, purple. Sir Lancelot, Harry thought as he struggled to get his armor off, really hadn't helped at all. He was like a rather talkative shadow who happened to know a bit more than he did.

"You show a lot of promise," Lancelot said, dramatically. Harry saw Ron roll his eyes as Lancelot continued. "I believe that they will be serving something for you in the Banquet Hall. There will be another training session tomorrow."

Ron and Hermione nodded briskly and set off. Harry, however, stayed.

"Er…Sir Lancelot?" Harry said, nervously.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever fought…er…Jeniva?"

Lancelot's mouth twitched.

"Yes," he replied. "I lost." He looked sky, as though lost in many painful memories. He shook it off, smiled cheerfully at Harry, and said, "But she shan't have that pleasure of victory any more, shall she, lad?" And with that he winked at him and strode off towards another part of the castle.

Harry watched him go, a curious look on his face, and then ran after Hermione and Ron, who had started wandering aimlessly in the corridors following the only thing they knew would take them to the Banquet Hall: the smell of food.

***

The obsidian walls of Jeniva's castle echoed with the clanking of a knight's armor as he kneeled before her throne.

"My lady, I have brought news of ~"

Jeniva turned her cold, black stare towards him. "Yes? Do go on, Tresbath," she goaded, bemusedly.

Tresbath nodded and bowed low to the ground. "Lancelot is…is not a proper teacher for them, my lady. It is but a farce. We have ~"

Jeniva twisted a lock of her blonde hair with her finger and gave him a twisted smile. "'Nothing to worry?' I believed you were a fool since I took you in, Tresbath, but I never knew you were an idiot. Perhaps you should go find a nice village where your attributes of stupidity will be more welcome."

He blushed slightly.

"I know that Merlin must know something about them that I do not…however," Jeniva smiled nastily. "I know something that Merlin and his pathetic students cannot even grasp with their pathetic, narrow minds."

Tresbath trembled. He swore to himself that he wouldn't ask, but both his desire to hear her voice again and his curiosity got the better of him. "W-what is it, my lady?"

Jeniva laughed. "Why, don't you know, you idiot knight? No one can defeat me!"

***

"Who's that?"

Harry looked around.

"Where?" he asked.

"Over there," Ron pointed to a slender, mocha-skinned woman with long black hair who was sitting across from Godric Gryffindor at the banquet table.

Hermione's mouth became a large 'o'. "Do you think it's Rowena Ravenclaw? Godric did say that Merlin taught her, too."

"Are you _serious? Rowena __Ravenclaw?" Ron asked, his eyes wide and brimming with excitement._

"Well, I suppose we could go ask…" Hermione suggested timidly, blushing a bit at the idea of talking to Godric Gryffindor for a second time.

"_Ask? Hermione, have you gone mad? You just want to go up and __ask if she's Rowena Ravenclaw, the bloody __founder of our school?"  Ron asked in disbelief._

"One of the founders," Harry corrected.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest, her face red. "Well, they _are real people, you know. I'm sure they wouldn't appreciate us following them around and spying on them just to find out who they are," she said, annoyed._

Ron scowled. "Well, I'm sure you're just _itching to go talk to Godric again," he snapped._

Harry sighed. _Honestly, he thought, __could they go for just one day without bickering?_

Hermione blushed furiously. "And what's that to you, Ron?"

Ron clenched his fist. "Why should I—"

"Oh, dear, I don't want to seem rude, but I do wish you'd stop arguing, it frightens me so," a high, flute-like voice shuddered.

The speaker was a young woman with thick, curly, corn-colored hair and bright blue eyes that, at the moment, seemed beseeching. Her tight dress indicated that she'd gone on one too many visits to Camelot's kitchens.

Ron gave her a scathing look. "Who're you?" he snarled. The woman brightened up considerably, despite Ron's angry tone, and held out her pudgy hand. Ron gazed down at it, disgusted. The young woman took no notice of this, and her hand returned to her side, her enthusiasm not dampened in the least.

"Oh, I _am sorry, I do tend to forget my manners; I'm Helga Hufflepuff," she said cheerfully, smiling._

Ron's eyes widened.

"Hufflepuff, did you say?" Hermione asked.

Helga looked politely puzzled. "Yes, Hufflepuff…"

Harry coughed. "Er…well…I'm Harry P~"

"~ Potter," she chorused with him, smiling. She turned to Ron and Hermione. "Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger! Oh yes, yes, we know all about you," she said, giddy as a schoolboy. "Merlin was talking about you just this morning! Oh, what a wonderful coincidence!" 

Harry stared, uncertain on what to say.

"Though I must say," she said, giving them shrewd looks, "you _are quite a bit younger than I expected you to be."_

Harry felt another tinge of annoyance. 

Helga, however, took no notice and continued along in a cheery voice, "Godric was telling me earlier this afternoon about how you have arrived from the land of Hogwarts!" Her voice dropped down to a low, excited whisper. "And I must say, the way Godric put it, your Hogwarts sounds absolutely wonderful."

Harry gulped. He was beginning to regret telling Godric that they came from Hogwarts. 

 Helga gave them a pitying look, misreading the uncomfortable expressions on their faces. "Do you miss it?"

"Um…a little," Hermione squeaked.

Helga nodded sympathetically. "Oh, dear, don't fret…we are not natives of this land, either, my fellow pupils and I." Helga began to stare at a large stone pillar behind Ron, smiling in a vague sort of way, as though she were reminiscing. She sighed and shrugged a bit, as if to shake herself out of it, and smiled kindly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Well, I must find Merlin now, I've had an absolutely wonderful idea. It has been magnificent meeting you, the _conquerors!" She clapped her hands together in utter delight and hurried off in the opposite direction to find Merlin._

Ron stared after her, still in a state of shock. "_That_ was Helga Hufflepuff?"

"Oh, you've met Helga, then?" came a voice from behind Harry.

The three of them turned to see Godric and the black-haired woman standing there. Godric smiled.

"She may prattle on about trivial things, but she's actually quite brilliant, beneath all of that," he said, reading Ron's shocked expression correctly.

"Rather careless, too," the woman muttered to herself.

Harry glanced at the woman, noticing that her pale gray eyes seemed blurry and distant.

Godric laughed. "That was a bit harsh, Rowena ~ you know Helga means for the best."

The woman smiled, but didn't look at Godric. "Be that as it may, Godric, I'm always having to feed her Venomous Tentaculas for her…"

The corners of Godric's mouth dropped into a frown, and he said, much more serious, "Rowena, you do know that ~"

"~ oh, I know perfectly well that I'm not supposed to, Godric, but _you_ know perfectly well that I despise being treated like a child," she interrupted, annoyed. She turned her unfocused stare to the pillar behind Ron, who fidgeted nervously. Her face seemed anxious.

"They didn't leave, did they, Godric? I did so want to talk to them."

And then Harry knew: Rowena was blind. 

_A/N: That's all for now, folks. I'm changing the ENTIRE ending, yep, yep. Expect the next chapter up in one to one and a half weeks, depending on how fast I write it. Hee hee. Thankies to the people who reviewed! I LOVE YOU! In a platonic way, of course…no…wait…come back…*sigh* I lose more reviewers that way…_

toodles,

Ron Weasley's Cutie


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